Dangers of the Mind
by GolfishSoup
Summary: Erik and Raven are gone. Charles is paralyzed and alone in his large mansion. Nobody is there as Charles descends lower and lower into a telepathic depression. By the time Erik find Charles he is no longer the same. Can Erik sink into the shadows to try an find the man he once loved? Or will he to be consumed by the darkness that surrounds his beloved Charles? CHERIK!
1. Prologue

Suddenly, like a match meeting a fuse, pain ignited in Charles lower spine. He screamed but not a sound left his mouth. He wasn't sure how long it really took him to fall but it felt as if years passed before he felt strong lean arms grasp him as he hit the sand. Charles hadn't felt anything when Erik removed the bullet. Nor had he felt anything since that day on the beach as he lay in Erik's arms. He had watched as Erik's mouth moved but everything seemed so far away…

Erik had then looked away from Charles. Following his gaze, Charles had seen Moira gasping with her hands clasped around her throat. At first thought Charles had believed that she was in just overcome with emotion but, as Charles dragged his gaze back Erik he had struggled in horror at Erik's spidery fingers stretched out toward the CIA agent.

Charles was suddenly blasted with sound. Explosions could be heard out to sea as the waves slid along the shore. "You! You did this" Erik had spat as he constricted his fingers. Charles saw four faint yellow outlines creep into his limited range of vision.

With a swipe of his arm his sister as well as Hank, Sean, and Alex were thrown through the air. "I said back off!" Erik had then snarled at the students before returning his full attention back to Moira.

"Wait, please" Charles had gasped. Erik had looked down at Charles, anger still burning hot in his solemn blue eyes. "She didn't do this, Erik. You did." Erik gazed down in horror. Erik needn't have removed Shaw's helmet to tell Charles what he was thinking.

He knew Erik would always blame himself no matter how much he wanted the world to believe that he didn't care. "Us turning on each other," Erik told the broken man softly "it's what they want. I tired to warn you, Charles. I want you by my side. We're brothers, you and I. All of together, protecting each other. We want the same thing." Charles had mirrored his lovers sad stare.

"My friend. I'm sorry, but we do not." Charles had said weakly.

Charles didn't really remember what happened on the beach after Erik's safe arms no longer held him. All he knew was that, when he later awoke in his mansion bedroom, both his sister and his best friend had walked away from him. Walked away. Something that Charles would never again be able to do.

That's when Charles first felt the poison of darkness and the bite of rejection. The two people he would have given his life for had destroyed him and had left his powerless body to rot. _They will be sorry. _Charles thought menacingly. _Those two may have forgotten all that I have done for them but, I will never forget what they have done to me._


	2. Chapter 1 When Minds No Longer Matters

Hank sat staring at the dark television screen. Alex and Sean stood nearby each trying to through the other to the ground. "Would you knock it off already!" Hank yelled exasperation laced through his words.

"Ah, come one Beastie," Alex teased, "We are just having a bit of fun. Don't worry about Professor X. I'm sure its just the meds making him weird." Using Alex's temporary distraction Sean was finally able to pin the blonde to the expensive looking carpet.

Hank clasped and unclasped his furry hand in anger. Alex was always patronizing him. "That's the thing." Hank said through gritted teeth, "He hasn't been taking his meds for the past week. Confusion and concern crossed over both of the human-looking boys faces. Alex suddenly launched himself upward and reversed the rolls between himself and Sean.

There was a sudden crashing sound that came from above the three men followed by an angry yell. "Professor?" Hank yelled. No answer. All three of the men froze, waiting for an answer. Still, none came.

"Are you alright Professor?" Alex yelled at the blank ceiling. He and Sean stood up frozen in the silence. Hank stood up to and began to stalk toward the door, Alex and Sean close behind. The three men broke into a run and sprinted up the stairs and down long hallways.

They only stopped when they had reached the library door. Hank knocked quietly on the thick wooden door listening carefully. "Professor?" Hank said carefully "You okay?" he thought that maybe he had heard a rustle behind the mahogany but couldn't be sure.

"Move Beast!" Alex commanded and Hank had barely a few seconds to dive out of the way of a bright red beam emanating from Alex's chest. Wooden splinters exploded into the hallway and Hank heard Sean give a piercing chirp of surprise.

"You idiot!" Hank snarled throwing his blue fist into Alex's smug face. Alex flew backward into the wall opposite. Hank immediately regretted his actions. He still wasn't used to his newly gained strength.

Alex's nose was expelling a ferocious amount of crimson blood and for once he seemed to be into much shock to speak. Sean picked himself up out of the wreckage and stood quietly trying to gaze into the dark library. Hank turned away from Alex and began to pick his way into the darkness.

"Professor X?" Hank said again. His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness a new attribute the Hank believed was directly connected to his advanced mutation. Charles sat in his iconic metal wheelchair a nearly empty bottle in hand. Hank padded slowly toward the disabled man.

"What the fuck do you two want?" The professor hissed at Hank and Sean without looking at either of them. Sean took a step back as Hank took a tentative step forward. A heavy looking chessboard lay in its side in front of Charles, the black and white chessmen scattered among broken glass. Hanks large foot sent a white queen skipping across the floor until it came to a stop in front of the professor.

Charles leaned forward and picked up the piece rolling it between his fingers. He dropped both the piece and the bottle. Brown liquid flooding the battlefield of glass and chessmen. The professor bowed his head running his fingers through His messy brown curls. "Leave." Charles whispered as Alex trotted into the room.

"Wow, what happened in—" Alex began but was silenced by the look that Hank threw at the blonde man.

"Leave." Charles repeated a bit louder this time.

"Professor?" Sean said, "Do you maybe want us to help you clean up?"

Charles didn't look up at the three men. He sighed "No, I don't want you here. I want you t leave this room. I want you to leave my house and never return."

"Professor!" Alex cried, "You know I don't have anywhere else to go!" Sean nodded his agreement not that Charles saw him.

"Leave." Charles snarled finally looking at them. His large blue eyes were full of menace that even made Hank cringe.

"We are not going to leave you Professor." Hank said walking forward and placing one of his large hands on the professors' shoulder. Hank felt the professor tense beneath his palm but for he reached up and placed the tips of his fingers against his temple.

"Sean." He said "Go over to the desk, open the top drawer, pick up the handgun inside and shoot yourself in the head." Sean marched hypnotically toward an impressive looking desk t the far end of the library.

"No!" Alex yelled fruitlessly trying to stop Sean from reaching the desk. Tears were sliding down Sean petrified face as he held the small silver pistol in a firm freckled hand.

"Please stop Charles!" Hank begged, his eyes watering as he stared at Alex trying to wrestle the gun away from Sean.

Charles looked up at the blue man. "You should have left while you had the chance." He whispered to him. "Alex! Step back!" Charles said harshly. Alex took a step away from his red headed friend, blood and tears sliding down his face.

"Sean." Alex said "Please don't do it man. Fight it"

Sean's face was bright red with effort. He didn't want to die. "I can't," He sputtered staring into Alex's distressed and bloody face. Sean hand brought the gun to his temple

"Pull the trigger." Charles said. The gunshot echoed throughout Hanks body and he could one stand in horror as Sean's body hit the floor with a loud crunch.

"No!" Alex wailed only being able to stare down at his now dead best friend, pieces of Banshee's brain splattered across the library floor.

Hank stood dumbfounded his hand sliding off the professors hunched shoulders. Alex struggled under his telepathic paralyses.

"I will kill you!" Alex shouted at Charles's back cursing at his inability to move. Charles turned his chair around putting his fingers back to his temples.

"You had a chance to save him" Charles said his voice sending chills up Hanks spine. "It's your fault he died." Alex began shaking his head and fell to his knees.

"No…" Alex whispered. His eyes began to glaze over as he began to yell inaudibly. Hank stared down at Alex who no longer seemed to know where he was. "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" Alex screamed, writhing on the ground. Alex suddenly went silent and struggled to meet Hanks terrified gaze. "Run Hank." Alex said before he stopped his ragged breathing.

Hank tore out of the room, fear thundering through him. He briefly felt another mind touch his own but he quickly barred his mind against the intruder. Hank had no Idea where he would go, but Charles needed help and there was only one person strong enough to aid the dangerous telepath.


	3. Chapter 2 Pubs and Fancy Hats

_Sorry about not posting! I had an Anthropology test to study for… I had a lot of fun writing this chapter due most likely to my obsession with Magneto/Erik/Michael Fassbender. He is one beautiful man! I hope I did him justice in this chapter… There are a few parts near the middle that I wanted to elaborate on but I couldn't figure out how to do so without making it sound like I was rambling (kinda like I am now) REVIEW PLEASE! This is my first FanFiction story and I want to know if anybody likes it! And even if you don't, tell me what I can do better! _

Erik shivered slightly against a current of cold Oxford wind. His cigarette blushed slightly in the breeze as a young women rushed across the deserted campus. It was a good thing she wasn't closer or else she might be slightly suspicious of the tall Germans choice in headgear. Erik hadn't taken Shaw's helmet off since that day on the beach. Since the day he had left a broken Charles in the arms of that woman. That human woman.

Erik leaned his head back to gaze up at the white sky before rubbing out his cigarette on the wooden bench he was seated on. The angry hiss filled the silence but was soon lost in the snowy surroundings. He could picture Charles here. But not in the snow. Charles had always loved the sun.

He could see him now on the hillside opposite the bench. Long green grass whispering in the warm breeze, Charles among his many texts his fingers massaging the side of his temple. The sun reflecting off his copper curls that he brushed out of his eyes every time the wind caught them.

Something brought Charles attention away from his beloved books and he laughed softy at something Erik couldn't see. The young recruits began gathering around Charles, all of them laughed and basked in the sunlight that Erik couldn't touch. Charles's bright blue eyes found Erik and shone with so much happiness that Erik was immediately reminded of how he had spent summer days in Poland before the war.

Charles beckoned for Erik to join the happy group just as the others noticed him as well. Erik shook his head sadly at the sunlit apparition. "You deserve the summer my friend" Erik whispered

Charles's smile faded "But you are in the winter," He said "and all I want, all I have ever wanted, is to be with you." Erik nearly broke at the fake Charles's words.

"No." Erik said forcefully. Standing up, Erik turned his back on the summer dream

"Erik wait!" The wind howled at the metal bender.

"_Don't turn around. Don't turn around." _Erik screwed his eyes shut against the brunets' words.

"Erik!" Charles screamed and it sounded so much like him… maybe it was actually Charles… Had his friend found him at last? Had he forgiven Erik for all the pain he had caused?

Erik spun around and stared down in horror. Charles lay at Erik's feet his hair was no longer shining, but plastered to his head and littered with bit of leaves and mud. He was dragging himself through the half melted snow and leaving a crimson trail.

"You did this to me…" Charles gasped. Erik shook his head and took a few stumbling steps away from the phantom.

Two figures came into view behind Charles. Erik gasped as he came face to face with his parents. "You did this…" His mother rasped at him. Blood ran down her face from the wound inflicted all those years ago. Back when Erik was to weak to save her. She stood next to his father who was entirely made of ash parts of him, made from ember, glowed faintly despite the frigid air.

"Oh god," Erik sobbed, looking from Charles then back up to his mother and father "I am so sorry."

Charles and his parents began screaming in Erik's head. "Your fault Erik. This is your fault. Your fault. Your fault! YOUR FAULT!" Cold tears ran down Erik's face as he turned and sprinted away from the dark specters.

Moments later Erik found himself inside a crowded pub seated alone in a shadowy corner near the toilets. A glass of scotch was in his hand the amber liquid nearing the bottom.

"I like scotch too." A familiar voice said. Erik jerked out of the slight haze of the alcohol. Charles sat across from him grinning at Erik's stunned face.

"You aren't real." Erik muttered finishing off what was left in his glass.

"My dear friend," Charles told him "I am only as real as you need me to be. And right now it looks like you need me as much as I need you." Erik sighed and slid the glass toward his friend. The bar didn't even twitch at the sound of glass breaking on the dirty floor.

Charles chuckled "Real only in your mind, Erik. I'm afraid I can't interact with you. Not physically anyway."

"So what," Erik said bitterly "I am supposed to sit here and talk to a figment of my imagination?"

Charles grinned at Erik saying "I highly doubt people will think you any more loony if that is your primary concern. Especially considering your determined efforts to bring red metal helmets into popular fashion."

Erik scowled at Charles "My mind," Erik said slowly "my thoughts, are, and always will be, mine. I don't need telepaths like you weeding through my secrets."

"I am a part of your mind, Erik. You no longer have the luxury of shielding your emotions. Not from me."

Charles murmured. Reaching across the dusty table Charles placed a hand over Erik's. Erik expected to feel the soft caress of Charles's warm palm but frowned when he couldn't register even the gentlest touch.

"I'm sorry" Erik told the brunet turning his palm so it rested against Charles's.

"There is nothing to forgive." Charles told him kindly. "You ought to leave though." Charles said quickly "I am afraid that you may have already attracted a bit of unwelcome attention." Charles nodded toward a few policemen who sat nearby and were motioning in Erik's direction.

"Won't you come with me?" Erik said softly, glancing furtively at the authorities.

"I'll be here as long as you want me." Charles murmured.

Erik stood up and quickly strode out of the pub. The cold wind blasted against Erik's warm cheeks as he heard the door close behind him. Charles stood beside him on the sidewalk, shivering in the cold. "Are you cold?" Erik asked.

"I only feel what you feel. If you feel cold then so must I" Charles's teeth chattered as he spoke.

"Oi! You!" Came a shout from behind the two men or rather, the one man and his imaginary friend.

Erik turned to see the three clearly intoxicated policemen staggering toward him. Erik glared at them his hands balling into fists in his coat pockets. "Calm your mind Erik." Charles warned, "Just find out what they want."

The three men came up offensively close to Erik, the harsh smell of whiskey in the air. "Good evenin' sir." One of them, the apparent leader, slurred while the others snickered.

"Can I help you?" Erik growled, gritting his teeth against the cold.

"Would ya look at the lads!" The leader said, "We've found ourselves a big ol' German." The other two burst into giggles. "So what side were you on then?" Erik said nothing.

"Lets see then!" The officer said reaching for Erik's left arm.

"Fuck off!" Erik snarled

"Just walk away, Erik" Charles said calmly. Erik ignored him.

"So a Jew then." The officer chuckled but the other two didn't make a sound.

"Good day, officer" Erik said, turning away.

"Where the 'ell do you think you are going?" The policemen said grabbing Erik by the sleeve.

Erik tensed. "Now can I hit him?" Erik asked looking at Charles who frowned.

"You know I don't condone violence." Charles told him.

"Who the 'ell are you talkin' to?" The policemen asked.

Erik turned around, the officers hand slid off Erik's arm. "Me?" Erik said, "I'm talking to my friend who I shot in the back about two months ago."

"What are you on about?" one of the other officers said as he pulled out his baton. The others copied him. Erik grinned as he felt the metal beneath their uncertain fingers. The batons were quickly whips from the authorities hands and floated mid air above them.

The three men yelled in surprise as their weapons turned upon them. "Would you look at that!" Erik said, "Must be ghosts!" The batons suddenly rained upon their previous masters, bashing continuously into the heads and forearms of the squealing policemen. Laughing as the three turned and ran down the street away from him. Erik readjusted his helmet before pacing back to where he had parked his car earlier that morning.

"That wasn't funny, Erik" Charles scolded. Erik continued laughing despite his friends frown.

"Same old Charles." Erik said before continuing down the road, Charles trotting closely behind.

_Well? What do you guys think? Any comment is appreciated just try not to be too harsh… I'm pretty sure I made it so you can say curse words but I'd prefer it if you didn't use them! I have lived in America all my life so I don't know much about British people but I feel like Charles felt pretty European like in the movie. I know Erik is supposed to be a bit manlier but I wanted to maybe bring out his sad side, and since Charles is in a rage-fueled depression I think it's only fair that Erik should have some guilt-fueled hallucinations. I do love the crazies. Thanks for reading! ~Goldfish_


	4. Chapter 3 Blondes, Brunets, and Blues

**I had a hard time writing this chapter! I just could not figure out how to stretch Charles's experience through an entire chapter… Oh well. So the beginning is from Charles point of view but then it changes the Hank. Enjoy! I'll try to update again tonight at the latest on Sunday. It all depends on how bored I get during my 4-hour English class…**

Charles sighed running his fingers over his throbbing temple. His warm breathes echoed through the silent library. "_You need to stop this" _came a voice from deep inside Charles's mind. Charles laughed at the innocence of the plea.

_"I thought I told you to leave." _Charles thought quietly.

_"You have caused enough pain" _the voice said, _"Please, just stop"_

"Get out!" Charles snarled aloud, and the presence then quickly fled his mind. "I am stronger than you ever could be." Charles said to the empty room.

"Sir?" a dreamy voice said from the doorway. Charles picked at a piece of lint on his knee. Footsteps approached him and stopped at his side.

"I was not speaking to you." Charles said.

The visitor shifted slightly causing the floorboards to groan. "Can I get you anything?" He asked Charles. Charles thought a moment before replying.

"Yes," He said, "I think I would very much like to take a stroll outside today." The man began to wheel Charles toward the door. "And after I would like a nice glass of scotch. Any of the Macallan's should be fine."

"Yes sir." Came the puppets stony reply.

"I think this arrangement is going to work out just fine," Charles said. The blonde slave continued pushing his master down the hall in silence.

Hank pulled his scarf over his mouth and nose before stepping out of the Studebaker Gran Turismo Hawk. A few teenage boys smoking outside a bar had already noticed the expensive vehicle. Hank silently cursed himself for driving off in the most expensive car from Xavier Manor.

"Can I help you?" Hank spun around quickly and came face to face with the gas station attendant. He was pretty young, most likely hadn't even set foot in college yet, pimples littered his adolescent features.

"I'll be fine, thank you." Hank told him but the young man didn't budge. Hank smiled at him but then remembered that his mouth was carefully covered. "Um, actually I wanted to go have a smoke for a moment, could you-"

The boy nodded happily "Don't you worry," he said to Hank, "I'll be real careful." Hank nodded in thanks before walking a few yards away from the car and the excited teenager. Hank gazed out over the crisp winter landscape carefully keeping his back turned so that the boy wouldn't notice the Hank wasn't actually smoking. Not that the boy gave the cars supposed owner a second glance, Hank would be surprised if the attendant actually remembered to fill up the tank.

Hank waited a few minutes before walking back over to the car. "Am I good to go?" Hank asked the boy, who was now basically drooling over the cars advanced engine. Well, advanced for humans anyway. Hank wondered what the boy would do if he could a glimpse of the Blackbird.

The boy's eyes shot up quickly as he tried yet again to squint past Hanks dark sunglasses. "How often do you drive this?" the boy asked carefully.

Hanks heart nearly stopped. Had this car ever left the mansion grounds? Hank didn't have the slightest idea and he now cursed himself for spending his days in the lab, tinkering with one thing or another. Maybe Erik had taken it out at some point, but Hank had always preferred to avoid the grumpy metal bender so he had no way to know for certain.

"Um, well…" Hank began, desperately motioning at the car with gloved hands. "You see, it's quite expensive and—"

The boy grinned, "I know why you cover your face!" He whispered, as if the keep other from hearing even though the nearest people were still smoking outside the bar. Hank froze, preparing to bolt into the car and drive off like a madman. The boy took a few steps closer to Hank "You're a movie star aren't you?"

Hank couldn't help himself. He suddenly burst into loud, animal-like bellows of laughter. When he finally managed to calm himself he looked up to see the boy looking sheepishly at Hank. "No," Hank told him "I'm not a movie star, I'm a scientist."

The boy frowned "I was hoping you were John Wayne's long lost cousin or something…" he said wistfully.

Hank shook his head "I'm afraid not, but I do need to get going is my car—" Hank trailed off suddenly as he saw the gang of teenagers begin to cross the street.

The boy followed Hank's gaze. "Oh." He said, "You should probably leave. The cars all ready to go."

Hank tensed as the boys continued to stalk toward the gas station. "Will they be trouble?" Hank asked

The young attendant shook his head "Nah," he said "they're harmless. Most of the time they are more of a annoyance than anything else."

"That's a mighty fine car you got there." One of them yelled, throwing his used cigarette into the gutter. Hank nodded his thanks at the stranger, pulling out his wallet to pay the attendant.

"Hey!" the boy snapped at Hank "I'm talking to you"

"Yes," Hank said calmly "and I, in case you haven't realized, am _ignoring _you." The boy bristled. Hank rolled his eyes. Theses kids were nothing but a bunch of bullies that spent their night harassing decent people.

The boy who had been talking leaned up against the car "You should let me take her for a spin." He said, lighting another cigarette.

"I don't think so." Hank said coldly opening up the driver side door.

"Well," the boy said, "luckily I don't really care what _you _think anyway. We outnumber you even when you count the zit-faced loser." The boy the reached out to snatch the keys from Hanks hands. Without knowing how, Hank suddenly grabbed the delinquent and threw him to the ground.

The gas station attendant laughed nervously as the boy gasped for air on the oil stained pavement. "You should have left me alone." Hank told him preparing to slide into his car.

"We all should have been." A familiar voice said from behind Hank. Hank froze. "What?" the voice said again, "You think things have turned out for the better? You of all people know how Xavier and Lensherr ruined lives."

Hank turned to face Alex "Your alive…" He whispered in shock. "Is Sean—"

"No." Alex snapped, "I turned his body to ash yesterday." Hank gazed at the blonde sadly. His arrogant blue eyes were hooded and blank.

"How did you escape?" Hank asked.

"I didn't." Alex said carelessly. The other boys were quietly trying to gauge the situation. A few of them looked ready to bolt if they hadn't already.

Alex began to pull off his coat to reveal the suit he had worn to Cuba. "I'm here to kill you." He said.

Hank pulled off the scarf covering his face and let it fall to the ground. "Run." Hank told the boys.

**Oh man, I wanted to give Hank a bright red 1962 Ferrari 250 GT0! I had to control myself though because I feel like maybe that's a bit more conspicuous…. Just a bit. Maybe I'll have Erik steal one in later chapters :D**

**And for those who don't know, "the Blackbird." Is the jet that Hank designed in the movie. Sorry for it being a bit short but I do love cliffhangers! And sorry to all Banshee fans but he's not coming back. R&R please! ~Goldfish**


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